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Fan: The Venturian Candidate
Characters * Captain Maloney * Captain Moorr Taann * Brady * Admiral Kickyourbottom * Quark * Tali'Zorah Nar Rayya * Mara * Bahd Gai 1 ENCRYPTED DATA STREAM ''-SUBJECT WAS SUCCESSFULLY REVIVED, HOWEVER OXYGEN STARVATION MAY HAVE CAUSED DAMAGE TO BRAIN AND MUSCLE TISSUE. TESTS OF COGNITIVE FUNCTIONS AND MEMO-'' ***** Captain’s Log, Stardate 2425.15 The USS Mirage has been sent to rendezvous with the USS Voyager, which was last reported to be deep in Derpian territory responding to a distress signal and has not been heard from since. Our mission is to assess the condition of Voyager and, if possible, escort it to Starbase for debriefing. Captain Maloney of the USS Mirage puffed out his cheeks and ended his log before signing off. Space, he decided, is boring. It wasn’t the constant loneliness for weeks on end with only the crew for company; nor was it the endless reams of paperwork. He was just bored of his job. It had lost the edge. Galactic peacekeeping is a full-time job, but when the peace practically keeps itself for the most part there’s very little for a space Captain to do. He’d applied for jobs on the frontier, of course, but all the best jobs seemed to have gone to other people. He missed the good old days, when there was danger and adventure just past the next star, when there were Romulans around every corner and monsters behind every plastic rock, back in the days when the only law was a charged Phaser and the Universe seemed so much bigger. Of course, having a more exciting life doesn’t come without risks, he knew all too well. But then, all of this did seem a little- “Captain Maloney sir? We’ve reached the system.” Maloney looked up. The ensign gestured to the view screen, which clearly showed the Derpian system in range. He nodded. “Good. Open hailing frequencies, all channels.” The ensign shot a finger at the communications officer, who complied. “This is Captain Maloney of the USS Mirage to the USS Voyager, please respond.” Silence. “No answer, sir.” The Comms officer said. Maloney gave the acknowledgement, with a slight air of personal loss. “Very well, begin the search, but keep the message playing on a loop until you get an answer. Give a wide sweep of all sections, anything you find I want brought in by tractor beam.” “Yes, Captain.” The ensign confirmed before continuing with the job at hand. This particular ensign was not in the best of moods, having just been called back from a particularly entertaining evening at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, and had just started on the hors d’oevres when the communicator buzzed. No-one paid particular interest in the ensign’s predicament, and so the matter was dropped. Maloney, meanwhile, bowed his head and went back to his thoughts. I wonder… ***** ENCRYPTED DATA STREAM ''-INDICATES THAT PHYSICAL ALTERATIONS HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFUL, MENTAL CHANGES MODERATE. SUBJECT’S MEMORIES HAVE BEEN ALTERED BUT ORIGINAL PERSONALITY PERSISTS. SUBJECT WILL CONTINUE TO BE MONITORED AND SUBJECTED TO-'' ***** A sensor sweep confirmed that there were no ships in the area, only a large amount of debris. A further scan of the debris revealed that it was a mixture of materials from both Federation and Romulan starships. And in the centre, a massive amount of radiation. All signs of one thing: a battle that had ended with the mutual destruction of Voyager and its opponent, the Romulan ship. Of course, none of this could be proven until they found either an escape pod with survivors, or the recordings from the Black Box Recorder. Which, in this amount of irradiated metal debris, would take time. But it was the only way to be sure, so on they went, continuing the search. ***** ENCRYPTED DATA STREAM ''-INDOCTRINATION RESULTS NEGATIVE. GENETIC ALTERATION RESULTS POSITIVE. VIRUS READY-'' ***** “Our sympathies go out to the families of those who served on Voyager. The information both supplied by Admiral Picard and retrieved from the Black Box Recorder indicate that the ship was fired upon by a Romulan War Bird, causing a warp core breach that destroyed both ships. The Romulan Government has disavowed all knowledge of Romulan activity in the Derpian sector. However, the news has provoked an outcry from-” ***** ENCRYPTED DATA STREAM ''-INFECTION SUCCESSFUL. SUBJECT READY FOR -'' ***** 2 The philosopher Jean-Paul Satré once said that hell was being locked in a room with your friends. Then again, all of Satré’s friends were probably French. Many had speculated what happens when you die, or the possibility of the existence of an afterlife. Well, thought Captain Marie Moore-Tann, formerly of the USS Voyager, whatever the afterlife may or may not be, it certainly wasn’t being strapped upright to a testing table in a secure Romulan testing facility. How had she survived the explosion, she wondered to herself? Did the ship even explode? She couldn’t remember what had happened. Derpian. The Derpian was a Romulan Spy. He tried to kidnap her. Take her to Romulus for interrogation. Then there had been a lava flow- -she took the shuttle back to Voyager- -the Romulans started firing- She realized with abject horror that the entire crew, everyone on board, was dead. Her crew was dead. And it was her fault. She knew the score, she knew they would have to lower their shields to let her in, she knew they would be vulnerable to attack. Why had she done it? WHY? Okay Marie, she thought to herself, What would, uh… What would Captain Kirk do? Probably find a cute Romulan and kiss his way out. That probably won’t work in my case… What are the Romulans up to? What do they want me for? What are they doing to me? What am I now? They’re coming in again. My god, what now? The light-'' ***** Maloney impatiently paced outside the office of Admiral Kickyourbottom, fiddled with his cuffs, bit his nails, pretended to fire a Phaser at a vase on the table, and generally other such attempts to prevent himself from succumbing to boredom, little realizing he was already well and truly bored out of his mind. He sat down again, and tried to think of a nice tune to hum to himself. Nothing came to mind. He tried resting his chin on one arm. Finding this position uncomfortable, he tried repositioning himself so that his cheek was rested on his other arm. Failing that, he finally gave in and rested on both hands. Maloney wondered idly to himself, whether it was possible to write a full-length novel in the time it took to wait for a meeting. Queuing was not his strong point. For that matter, neither was anything else, but of his virtues, patience was most definitely, definitely not one of them. After what seemed like an eternity, he was finally paged to come in. Unfortunately, by this point he had taken to trying to peel off the insignias from his lapels and had to hastily reattach them before entering. Admiral Kickyourbottom noticed this immediately but said nothing. “Hello, Captain Maloney.” Maloney smiled and sat down. Without looking up, the Admiral said “Please, sit down.” Maloney froze, sat up a bit, and then lowered the seat a little before slumping a little lower than would normally be expected as a comfortable seating position. The Admiral gestured to his lapels. “Your lapels are a bit..,. skewiff.” Maloney nodded. “Yes sir.” The Admiral nodded. “Right. My name is Admiral Kickyourbottom.” “Admiral Kicking Bottom!” Maloney exclaimed. The Admiral shook his head wearily, as if this statement was something he dealt with on a regular basis, and said, with the manner of a bored telephone receptionist at an IT help centre suggesting for the 400th time that day to turn it off and turn it back on again, “No, Kick-your-bottom.” Maloney nodded again in understanding. “Oh, my bottom. I see.” The Admiral moved on. “No doubt you know why you’re here?” Maloney shook his head. “No sir, actually I don’t. I assumed that you would be briefing me on… on… well, whatever it is.” “Oh yes. Well, as I understand it, you volunteered to head a search and rescue mission for any survivors of this” he paused to spit disdainfully into the bin, “tragic misadventure with Voyager in Romulan space.” Maloney frowned. “But sir, the space was Derpian. The Romulans have no jurisdiction in that sector of space.” Kickyourbottom leaned over to Maloney and tugged at his collar. “The Romulans attacking a Federation starship is an act of war, even in neutral territory. The Federation can’t afford another war, especially since the new fleet isn’t due for commissioning for another eighteen months.” Maloney looked at him with a look of disgust. “Sir, allowing the Romulans to get away with this heinous-” “Will not happen, We’ll see to that personally. But I want you to go back into the Derpian sector and find out all you can about the Romulan ship. I want crew information, mission plans, I want a goddamn toilet run overview! I want you to nail those sons of bitches in the crotch and make ‘em PAY for what they’ve done!” “Uh, yes sir, Admiral, but, if you don’t mind me asking… Why me?” Kickyourbottom straightened up. “It says on your profile that you and Captain Tann were very close, you two were the only survivors of the Stellari incursion.” “That is correct. A lot of good people died that day. Some days I can still hear those creatures’ unearthly cries-” “Yeah, yeah. So it’s personal to you, I want you to GIVE THEM HELL!” “Damn straight sir!” The Admiral pulled out a PADD and gave it to him. “You’ll be given Starfleet’s new experimental transwarp cloak ship, the Monitor. It’s specially designed for stealth and can operate with minimal crew.” Maloney raised his hands and furrowed his eyebrows. “Pardon me again, but isn’t cloaking technology illegal?” Admiral Kickyourbottom stood up, pushed the table over and frogmarched Maloney to the door. “DON’T ASK SO MANY QUESTIONS, JUST DO IT!” Maloney jumped as the door closed behind him and nearly caught his trouser leg. He surveyed the PADD information once again. ''The Monitor… Now that’s one mother of a mover… ***** 3 The days all seemed to blur together. She couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t anymore. She couldn’t even remember her own name. They told her that they were the resistance against an oppressive empirical force known as “the Federation”. They say that they’ve killed or enslaved millions in their pursuit of universal domination. They say that they tried to kill her because she is the only one who can stop it. But for some reason, there was a part of her that didn’t believe the things they said. But she didn’t voice these concerns. So she feigned compliance. They seemed to like that. She didn’t have the pains in her arms anymore, they said they were finished. They said a lot of things she thought she could’ve understood once, but she couldn’t remember and she was just happy not to have the pains and the strange flashes in her mind, and whatever a “hypodermic syringe” is. Another thing that was gone was the uncomfortable floor. Now she didn’t sleep in the barred room any more. Now she had a larger room. The room was fairly spacious, if dull. There was just about enough room for six people to stand on opposite ends, not including the bunks. She wondered who the other beds were for. But they didn’t like it when she asked questions. They got mad. She didn’t like it when they got mad. It hurt when they got mad. So she didn’t ask. And so the woman that had once been Captain Marie Tann of the USS Voyager curled up that night and went to sleep, the voice in her head that would tell her things whispered one word to her that she would remember for a long time afterwards. ESCAPE. ***** ENCRYPTED DATA STREAM ''-OUR PARTNERS HAVE BEEN UNCOOPERATIVE AND -'' ''-WOULD PREFER TO WORK ALONE IN THIS MATTER, BUT THEY BOTH HAVE VALUABLE RESOURCES-'' ''-TECHNOLOGY CURRENTLY BEYOND OUR REACH, BUT THE STARFLEET PROTOCOLS PROVIDED BY THE HUMAN TRAITORS ARE ALREADY EASILY ACESSIBLE TO OUR-'' ***** Maloney took another sip of his Cardassian Kruge ’93 – a good year, to be sure – as he waited in Quark’s bar on Deep Space 9 for the transfer from his account of the amount of credit worth of 12 bars of Latinum – in exchange for the information he wanted, of course. For some reason, the wireless connection in Ten-Forward was always a little slow, so he decided to come down to do his business there. It wasn’t difficult – dodgy dealings were going on onboard this space station almost as often as Babylon 5 – and the Security Officer owed him a favour anyway. In the background, he could hear Vic Fontaine performing a classic Sinatra piece that he couldn’t quite place the name of. He turned back to the bar and snapped his fingers. Quark slid over to him before disappearing off the edge of the counter. He jumped back up and dusted himself off whilst Maloney ordered a Toasted Teacake. “Toasted Teacake? This is a bar, not a B’N’B. If you want Toast, go to PIE. Or Milliways.” He looked around for a moment before lowering his voice. “I do, ah, happen to have a toaster with artificial intelligence that I purchased for a reasonable price in… reasonable condition.” Maloney knew what he was pulling. “Come off it Quark, I know you’re gonna try and sell it to me for one of your “reasonable prices”. Quark look offended for a moment. “I’ll have you know that my wares are not only some of the best bargains you will ever find in this sector, but also perfectly bona fide in the legality department. “Oh, I’m sure.” Maloney scoffed. Quark peeked over at Maloney’s PADD. “What’re ya looking at? Anything good? I recommend the Orion ones, they always make the best-” Maloney pulled the PADD back so that Quark couldn’t see it. “IF you must know, I’m completing a transaction for information that will hopefully lead me to discovering the fate of the USS Voyager.” Quark’s forehead seemed to shrivel at the mere thought that money was being spent on anything other than his bar. Then his gargantuan ears pricked up as he hit on a thought. “Why didn’t you say so? You could’ve just come straight to me. Don’t waste your time on those bloodsuckers, they’ll just drain you dry. Tell you what, I’m a reasonable guy, I’ll do you a trade: the information you want for the fairly reasonable price of all of all of your discount vouchers for my bar.” Maloney shook his head. “Too high. A quarter.” “Three quarters.” Maloney didn’t budge. “Three Eighths.” “Half.” “Five Eighths.” “Done.” Said Quark, shaking his hand before he could renege on the offer. “I certainly have been.” Said Maloney as he forked over the vouchers. “So what is the information anyway?” Quark took a seat in front of him and leaned forward. “Alright. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but apparently the Romulan spy that was on the ship was working for a secret project, they’ve got a huge asteroid base somewhere. And it’s not just Romulans involved, they have another species, I don’t know the name of. There may even be rogue humans involved.” Maloney was intrigued. “How do you know this?” Quark shrugged with false modesty. “Romulan ale doth loose lips.” Maloney cracked a smile. “Nice work, man.” He finished his drink and dropped a tip in the glass as he left. 4 Maloney always had a shock when his apartment door closed behind him. It seemed to stop suddenly, then shudder close. The room was dark when he entered, but the bright illuminations outside threw strangely shaped shadows across the room, occasionally flickering like water, interrupted by a passing aircar. Maloney flicked on the lights and drew the curtains. The apartment was about average – fairly sized, slightly untidy, with a disconcerting brown stain running up one wall that no-one is able to identify. The walls were painted a colour that was purportedly supposed to be a nice, relaxing cream, but somehow had turned into a disconcerting, blotchy off-white that seemed to bombard the eyes even with the lights off. In the next room, the neighbour was watching a Zero-G Football Match. The neighbour in question was a Jets fan and his TV was hooked up to a faster connection, so Maloney could always tell who was winning from the noises coming from the other room. Maloney sat down on the side of the bed, unpinned his Starfleet badge and examined it, watching the light bounce off it as he turned it over in his fingers. Holding it close and upfront, he could see himself reflected in the Insignia. The thought always made him smirk. When he was younger, the badge actually seemed to mean something. A pro- a p- a thingy. It meant a type of… something, what’s that word again? It’s like a promise, I’m sure it’ll come back to me. Oh yes, I remember now. Principle. It was a principle. The promise that somewhere, out there in space, there was something… wonderful, and everything would just be better. Something just past the next star that would make everything worthwhile. But all they found out there was exactly the same as what they already had here. And so the Federation became less like the Galactic Peacekeeper rolemodel it had portrayed for so long and fell back onto the old-style “Frontier” rule – in short, people started joining for the thrill of the outer zones, where the stakes are higher and there’s danger at every corner. The Federation had turned into a pantomime space western. Maloney casually flicked the badge onto his desk and got himself changed out of his Starfleet uniform, before hopping into the bathroom for a nice refreshing shower. Maybe he’d have a read before he went to bed. Maybe. He closed the door behind him and the sound of running water could be heard from within, and quite possibly someone humming. ***** Brady was fine with being stuck in Romulan prison. The food wasn’t all bad, and it beat running around after himself for a change. Obviously, the company left a lot to be desired, but that was something of a given considering the location. What Brady wasn’t fine with was the constant shifting of cellmates. You never knew who your next cellmate was. It could be a captured Captain from Starfleet one day, the next a cold-blooded psychopath with a penchant for spilling blood. Once, he’d even shared a room with a Gorn. It was not a pleasant experience, and certainly a surprise he hoped wouldn’t repeat come the next change. Aside from the obvious murderous impulses, annoying noises, condescending voice and extremely unpleasant smell, this particular Gorn fancied himself as something of a Poet. Not that a little art is a bad thing; if it weren't for the fact that all of his poems involved dead swans. If he was being honest though (which was a rarity in itself) he wouldn't have been surprised by getting another Gorn. In fact, very little would have surprised him in the way of cellmates. What he got, however, was a whole other surprise altogether, as he flung open the door, not knowing what to expect on the other side. It was a girl. More specifically, it was a fairly young female Homo Sapiens with dark hair and wild, glistening eyes that seemed to betray the innocence of a child and yet the sorrow of an elder at once. She was lying on the side of the bed. She was dressed in the usual burgundy garb for test subjects in the building, but something about her set her apart from the rest. She cut a once bold figure, now reduced to a poor girl lost in the dark; the body intact, the mind… incomplete. Those eyes, once burning brightly with a fierce intelligence and a sharp wit, now only knew a vacant, hollow stare, devoid of all previous qualities that stood her out; gone, but for the trace memory. And yet maybe, buried beneath the surface… Brady hadn’t had any female company in some time. Come to think of it, he hadn’t had much friendly company in… so long. How are you supposed to do it again? He was sure it wasn’t the way dogs do it. And so he tried to fill the ever-increasing gulf of awkward silence between himself and his newfound female company. “Uh… hi.” He smiled politely. “I guess you’re the new roommate?” (TBC) Chapter 6 Category:ElectricFire 169's Fan Fiction Category:Space Exploration Group Category:Star Trek Category:Fan Fiction Category:Fanfiction Category:Mass Effect Category:Clone Category:Clones Category:Predator Category:Starbuggers Category:On Main Wiki